Riding In A Yellow Submarine

I'm not a fan of science fiction or books, films or TV programs about paranormal phenomena.  In spite (or maybe because) of that, one of my favorite TV programs of all time is The X Files, which ran from 1993 to 2002.  I mean, what's not to like about a program about two FBI agents--one of whose belief in the paranormal may have been influenced by his sister's claimed alien abduction, and the other a medical doctor and skeptic who is nonetheless a devout Roman Catholic.  I guess that's what I liked best about it:  I never would have envisioned such characters, but I found them--and, more important, their relationship, which changes over time--interesting and believable.

I got to thinking about that because, lately, there seem to be more reports than usual of unidentified objects. Perhaps the Russian invasion of the Ukraine has something to do with it:  Such as a conflict could escalate too easily, and who knows what kind of weapons might be sent where, and what they might look like.

Turns out, you don't have to look to the sky or even the sea for objects that, to someone, might look as if they pose a threat to national or international security.  At night, on the side of a lonely road, one might find--a yellow submarine? 

Or a spaceship?  That's what one driver thought, for a moment, he saw along US 41 on Florida's west coast.  

The spaceship/submarine was, of course, a recumbent bicycle:  one in which you ride in a semi-supine position.  I have never tried one myself, for the very reason the driver and investigating officer mentioned:  They can be difficult to see, especially in traffic.  I would like to try one some day because I can see the advantages of such a bike for certain kinds of time trials or land speed records--or for people who have the strength and endurance to pedal for long distances and periods of times but, because of injuries or infirmities, may have trouble mounting or straddling a more traditionally-configured bicycle. 

What made the bicycle really strange, I think, was the fairing, which is most likely for aerodynamics.  But if I ever try a recumbent, I'm not sure I'd want to ride with a fairing for the same reason I have no desire to get into a submarine, even if one of my favorite bands has sung that we're in one whether we like it or not!

He Doesn't Support The Invasion. He Just Wants To Build His Bikes.

French authorities have seized a cargo ship near the English Channel port of Boulogne sur Mer.  That vessel is owned by a Russian bank whose CEO is the son of his country's former chief intelligence officer and served as prime minister. At the other end of the country, les douaniers grabbed a Russian oligarch's superyacht parked for repair in a Mediterranean port.  The country's security officials believe that the boat's owner, as well as those of other vessels docked in the area, were preparing to flee to the Maldives, which doesn't have an extradition treaty with the US or most European countries.

In New York and London, officials exploring ways to take the co-ops, condos and other real estate owned by Putain-, I mean Putin-connected billionaires in those cities.  And measures have been taken to keep those uber-rich Russians from accessing their bank accounts, stock holdings and other assets.

Such moves make headlines.  So does talk about sanctions, though the actual and possible results of them aren't as widely known.  One reason is that those sanctions, which devalue the ruble and prevent Russian exports of everything from natural gas to vodka, affect everyday people who are mostly invisible to anyone outside of their communities and country.

Among those everyday Russians is Dmitry Nechaev.  You probably haven't heard of him, but you may have seen his work:  He custom-builds titanium frames under the name Triton. Perhaps not surprisingly, most of his sales are to cyclists outside of his home country. But, during the past twelve weeks, he says, he hasn't received a single foreign order.  

Although the sanctions--which prevent him from receiving payments via PayPal, among other things-- would explain the past couple of weeks, his sales drought began earlier, when rumors trickled out of Russia.  Even if he'd had orders, he wouldn't have been able to build frames because, like his frame-building peers in the US and other countries, he depends on foreign suppliers.  Paragon Machine Works, a frame-part supplier, could not ship to Nechaev and other Russian builders and manufacturers because Federal Express and DHL stopped shipping to Russia.

So Nechaev, who emphatically condemns the Russian invasion of the Ukraine (and is of Ukranian and Jewish heritage via his mother) realized that he could no longer work from his Sochi shop.  Because he holds an Israeli as well as a Russian passport, he fled to Tel Aviv last week.  He has bought a car to pick up fellow Russian refugees from the airport and plans to leave a note at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem.

He plans to continue building his bikes, but he doesn't know where just yet.  It's difficult not to believe he's thinking of the USA.  In the meantime, he's asking for support from the industry.  Specifically, he appealed to the fact that he, like them and nearly everyone else, opposes the invasion and expressed hope that suppliers and customers in the US and other countries will continue working with him.

Made To Maim

 In many rural areas of the southern and western United States, the only way between Point A and Point B is a highway.  Cyclists and pedestrians therefore must share these thoroughfares with motor vehicles, including 18-wheel trucks, running at speeds of 60 MPH or more.

In some of those areas, as cycling has grown more popular, shoulders or lanes of those highways have been designated as bike lanes.  This causes resentment—and aggressive behavior—from motorists angry that cyclists are “taking “ their roads.

Sometimes the aggressive behavior includes driving that endangers cyclists—and, often, pedestrians and other drivers.  I’m talking about drivers who swerve into the lanes, brush by or throw debris at cyclists and shine their high beams into the eyes of cyclists riding in the opposite direction.

Other times, though, the aggression is more passive and includes breaking glass containers and leaving other hazardous debris in bike lanes. Some of the perpetrators may believe they are merely inconveniencing cyclists by puncturing their tires.  But from what I’ve seen and heard (especially from people who don’t know I’m a cyclist), some are trying to injure, or even kill, us.

How else can anyone explain leaving these on the bike lane of a Mesa, Arizona highway:

Several hundred of these spikes, called caltrops, were found in that lane—after a woman riding with a group flatted.  Fortunately for her and them, she was riding behind them at moderate speed.  But had she been riding in front of someone—say, if another rider had been “drafting” her—or riding at a higher speed, the results could have been catastrophic, given that the spike punctured her front tire.

I can’t help but to think that a more dire outcome was the intention of whoever left the caltrops:  Unlike broken glass and other kinds of debris, a caltrop always points one sharp spike upward from a stable base, no matter how it’s placed.

People have also reported finding these weapons of destruction on local hiking trails.  Tonto National Forest encourages anyone who finds them to report it to susan.blake@usda.gov  or 602-225-5200. Caltrops or other hazards in the highway bike lane should be brought to the attention of the City of Mesa.